The Meaning Of Human
by Ricechex
Summary: Season 3, set during Homecoming. Scene between when Buffy and Cordy fight about the HC Queen race and the limo ride to Slayerfest. Just something that popped into me brain. Review?


**The Meaning of Human**

I am alone. And it is dark. But it is always dark where I am. Cold, and dark. In some ways, alone, and in others, well… not. Right now though, I am alone, and cold, and in the dark. Psychologically speaking, of course – I am actually in my high school, where there are still plenty of teachers and students despite school having let out about twenty minutes ago, it is the middle of the afternoon, and it is pretty warm outside. But in my own world, I am cold and alone in the dark. Which helps – it means I can't actually see my friends as they stab me in the back. Guess that's a given though, since I don't have eyes in the back of my head. Could I be more mentally challenged?

I suppose some small part of me always thought this would happen – they would turn on me and I'd be left, drowning in a dark, lonely pool of my own blood. Left for dead. The knife still sticking out of my spine. Some part of me always knew, and sick as this is, actually wanted it to happen – just so I could look myself in the mirror and say, "See? Told you so."

I hear footsteps coming after me – they're too heavy to be Willow, and I know Cordelia wouldn't be following me after what I said to her earlier. Besides, she's at home getting ready for the dance. Oz is not at all the chasing type, and Giles would know better than to chase me when I'm in a bad mood.

That just leaves Xander.

"Buffy!" I turn and stare at him, my gaze cool and uncaring. I want to hate him right now – want to hit him and never stop, not until I am coated head to toe in his blood. Wow, do I need anger management or what?

"Buff, what the hell?" he demands angrily. I glare in response before turning away from him. I start to walk away when I feel a hand on my arm. The grip is forceful, harsh. The monster in me rises and I want to lash out at him.

"Xander," I say as quietly and calmly as possible, "let go of me now."

"What the hell is wrong with you, going off on Cordy earlier? And now, just walking out while we're trying to figure out what we're doing tonight?" His grip relaxes slightly, but it is still enough to make me want to pull it off of me – and off him. I jerk my arm loose, crossing my arms defensively in front of me.

"Xander, leave me alone," I whisper. I whisper because I am afraid that if I am any louder I will shout at him. And while school is out for the day, I don't want to draw attention to us. I really don't want anymore attention right now.

"Not until I get an explanation," he persists. He stands tall in front of me, his hands now hanging loosely at his sides. "I think I deserve that much."

"No you don't." The words are out of my mouth before I even think about them. I am horrified at what I have just done – pushed the argument even farther along. But I keep my gaze steady, my expression blank. Lots of practice in hiding emotions has paid off – Giles would be thrilled.

"I don't?" he asks crossly, his eyes flashing with rage. "Well Buffy, maybe you're right. Maybe I don't deserve an explanation – I did convince Willow to help Cordy, and of course Oz followed. I'm sorry you're hurt by that."

I stare at him, feeling the tears rising behind my eyes. Out of all my friends here, he was the one I actually expected betrayal from. The tears I feel mounting confuse me. He was, and always has been, the one I have trusted the least. Perhaps that is why now, standing in front of him as he pretends to apologize for pulling the only other friends I have against me – in a petty, childish competition, but competition nonetheless – I want to hurt him. I want to vent all my frustrations out on his body. I want to kick and punch and scratch and bite and leave him in a bloody heap, his life pouring out of him as I stand over him and watch him die.

"Buffy? Say something?"

I look down at the ground and take a deep breath. "Xander," I begin, but feel the words catch in my throat. I want to tell him to go to hell, to forget he knows me. To forget all about me. "I can't do this," I whisper, turning and running from him.

"Buffy, wait!" He's chasing me. Again. I have to get away. And then I see my exit – a door to the girl's bathroom. I dodge inside, hearing him stop outside the door. "Buffy – come out here, please? I want to talk to you!" he calls through the door. I walk to a sink and turn on the water, splashing my face with the cold as the first hot tears break through my defenses. Grabbing some paper towels, I wipe my face gently, watching in the mirror as my tears keep coming, keep streaming out of my eyes, some of them splashing into the sink, others plopping onto my shirt, making a small wet spot on my chest. I hear the door open, hear footsteps coming closer. I look in the mirror – it's him again.

"Xander, unless you're confused about something, you're in the wrong room. Guy's are across the hall."

"Buffy." His voice is low, and he looks like he might join me in spilling a few tears. "I never meant to upset you."

"You never do," I tell him, looking down at the sink. Sighing, I turn the water off and wipe my face one last time before turning to him. He looks confused. "You never mean to hurt me, or upset me, or make me feel so very alone. But you do." I cross my arms again. "God, Xander, do you even know what she said to me before you showed up?"

"No," he shook his head. "But I don't think it required the title you gave her."

"She talked about my parents," I continue, not caring what he thinks. "Or more importantly, my lack of parents. Because, in all truth, I only have one – my mom. And she shoved it in my face. Shoved the fact that she has them both right into my face." He looks away, probably battling his own thoughts.

"I'm sorry Buffy," he whispers. I walk towards him, pushing his shoulder with mine as I walk past.

"And I don't want your apology," I say as I open the door. I stop for a moment, not looking back at him. "And to be honest, I don't want _hers_ either." I leave him standing in the girl's bathroom as I make my way back towards the library.

"Buffy!" I look up to see Faith walking down the hall, followed closely by Willow. Faith looks like her typical self – happy and carefree. Willow looks less upset with herself than before she let me see the database today, but I can tell she's still mentally beating herself.

"Hey guys," I try to put on a cheerful voice, smile, make them think I'm OK. "What's up? Are there demons? Vampires? Anything?" I know I sound desperate on that last thought. Faith just grins.

"Nope – we are all systems go for the dance tonight. Just came by to see my date a little early," she grins wickedly at me, evoking a genuine smile in return, "and heard you had walked off somewhere. They said Xander went to find you but that neither of you had come back. Seen him around?"

"Oh, yeah, he found me," I nodded, glancing back to the bathroom door. He still had not come out. "He's currently gender confused."

"What?" Willow asks, puzzled.

"He's in the girl's bathroom," I tell them. Faith snorts and Willow looks concerned.

"Why would he be in there?"

"We had a little talk," I shrug. "He followed me in when I went to wash off my face."

"Oh, he'll be fine," Faith said, throwing an arm around my shoulders and steering me in the direction of the front doors. "So now, what I'm really here for – what do you think I should wear?"

I peek back to see Willow opening the bathroom door and Xander walking out, both looking very worried. But they can worry for now – I feel like they've earned it.

"You know, we could go shopping together – I think I could use some shopping right now."

"It's not bad luck to see your Homecoming date in their outfit before the dance, is it?" Faith asked as we walked out of the school.

"Nah, that's just with weddings. Besides, tonight _is_ the dance – not like we're gonna have a lot of time to see our outfits before hand anyway."

Faith laughed as we walked out of the grounds and towards my house.

"OK, something is on your mind." We were looking at pant-suits. I had already paid for my dress last week, but had had to have a few alterations done, so I was picking it up tonight. Faith had insisted on a quick preview, so I indulged her and tried it on. It was the first time I think I've ever seen her at a loss for words. She had told me she felt like 'big sister' watching the baby girl she grew up with getting ready for prom. I laughed and told her that I appreciated having an older sister, even if it meant it was her. I found several dresses that would have looked wonderful on her, but she decided she was not a dress girl. She had suggested a tux, but I told her I couldn't live through the night if she looked better in one than Xander did. So, pant-suit it was.

"I just…"

"You want me to wear a dress?"

"No, no, it's completely… opposite end of the spectrum, you know?"

"Not really – 's why I asked."

I sigh, wanting so much to talk to someone about the thoughts I had while arguing with Xander. "I feel like a monster… sometimes."

"In what way?" Faith leaned an arm on top of the clothes rack and watched me. I shrugged.

"It's stupid."

"Tell me anyway."

"OK. You asked for it." I told her about how I had wanted to hurt Xander, told her every detail; told her how I had enjoyed the thoughts of his pain and death. "I really wanted to hurt him, Faith." I stare into her big brown eyes. "And, to be honest, this isn't the first time I've had these thoughts."

Faith looks at me, intrigued. "I don't know how to break this to you then," she says, shaking her head.

"Oh God, its bad isn't it?"

"Totally – you're human, babe. You and me, we got superpowers, but we're still human. Still flawed, still imperfect."

"My thoughts were in no way human," I tell her.

"Yes, they were," she argues. "I've had those thoughts before – maybe not about Xander in particular, but about lots of people throughout my life. Being human means having these thoughts – being a monster means acting on them." I smile, and she smirks back.

"Listen to you, all insightful and wise," I tease. She shrugs.

"Guess I gotta stop hanging out with Giles so much," she tells me, grabbing a few suits and heading to the dressing room. "Be out in a minute!" she calls.

I sit down to wait for her to come out and show me her choices, thinking about her words as she's gone. _"Being human means having these thoughts – being a monster means acting on them."_ I guess she's right. Maybe I'm not a monster after all. Maybe life isn't as cold and dark as I had believed. And maybe… maybe not as alone as I thought.

Ya know, I think tonight might be one of the best nights of my life.


End file.
